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Nightmare on Leaf Street
The wind howled on the cold moonlight night as a man stood in a clearing 30 miles from Konoha. He had sent out three letters to three individuals, calling for them to come here. He treated it like a mission in the letter saying that he needed their certain skillets for this mission. However he did not state to any of them that he had sent out the other letters. As the moon stood high in the sky the black cloaked man awaited his arrivals. Taruto Uchiha arrived at the scene, yawning, and said "My, calling me at a time like this. Anyway, what's the mission that you want me to complete?" Taruto was not excited for a mission in the middle of the night, but he figured it was important. Taruto decided to investigate this man but did not want to reveal that. He would listen to what this man has to say and act accordingly. He was also totally prepared for a battle with this man if it's a surprise attack. A random mission in the middle of the night, it's either important or a trap. Mimicry Arrives The moon was full and yellow, low on the horizon and soft in the dark October sky as a dry wind brushed across bare farmland and through the skeletal remains of trees. Crickets sang from the weeds on the side of the road as an old man and his granddaughter made their way back towards their home. With his heavy limp and her tiny steps, their progress was slow, and the dim light from the oil lamp he carried began to waver in his hand. They heard the warning cry of an owl as it hooted from somewhere in the trees, and the girl tugged on her grandfather’s sleeve. “What is that?” she asked, her eyes wide and glowing in the moonlight. “Nothing but an owl, it won’t hurt us,” he assured her. But above its baleful sound they heard someone whistling. It was an eerie, off-tune melody, carrying over the fields and sending shivers down the old man’s spine. He instinctively pulled the girl closer to her side as a figure on the road came into view on the road approaching them. It was a boy, probably no older than sixteen or seventeen. He was short, with a lanky, almost disjointed build, and he came strolling along with a casual gait. His most off-setting aspect, however, was the fact that he was dressed mainly in white. Combined with the pale complexion of his skin, the overall effect was strangely similar to that of a ghost. As they drew near to the point of passing by the stranger, the old man saw him grin widely, his teeth flashing dangerously in the darkness. Even though he had retired from his role as a shinobi several years before, the old man felt his senses sharpen instinctively: the threat was palpable. “Evening,” the old man said gruffly. “Nice night, isn’t it,” the boy said. He seemed to eye the small paper bag full of apples that the old man was carrying; leftovers from the harvest fair they had attended earlier that day. “Do you live nearby?” he asked, the tone of his voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Yeah,” the old man replied, “Not too far from town.” His granddaughter clutched a small paper pinwheel in her chubby hand. A sudden gust of wind caught its fans, spinning them wildly and causing the stranger’s attention to shift, and he stared at the girl. His smile widened unpleasantly. The old man felt a cold sweat break out against his shirt collar, and he shifted his weight as he prepared to drop the bag of apples in order to reach the kunai safely tucked away in his shirt pocket. “Well you two are probably eager to go, seeing how late it is. Tell me, old man, is Konohagakure nearby?” he asked. The old shinobi breathed an inward sigh of relief, and blamed himself for being paranoid. “Just over the next two ridges there,” he said, motioning along the direction of the road. “Ah, thank you.” the boy replied cheerfully, “You’ve been quite helpful,” and he turned to leave. But he stalled, his body seemed to go rigid for a moment, as though some sudden urge had come upon him. He did not often kill out of a sense of boredom, but now he felt the desire settle into his veins like an insidious drug that compelled him against his will. He looked back at the old man and the tiny girl who had resumed their journey home, and his amber eyes glowed deeply under the orange light of the moon. If, in that moment he too had continued along his set course things might have ended differently. But at that moment a single apple slipped from the top of the man’s bag, falling to the earth and rolling along the dust in the road until it came to a stop at his feet. He saw the red in the apple, and then recognized the root of his desire: the lust for blood came upon him.. As the old man took another step he felt a sudden pain grip him by the chest. He let go of his granddaughter’s hand and rubbed the throbbing skin there with a puzzled expression. The girl tugged on his sleeve again. “What’s wrong gram-pa? What’s wrong?” she asked with concern. But he could not force any words to come out of his mouth, and then felt his own body twist around to face the boy whose face was contorted in predatorial euphoria. The bag fell to the ground and burst, the apples composing its entrails spilling out across the road. The boy reached down to pick up one of them and began to brush it off nonchalantly. The pain in the man’s chest worsened, but he did not cry out for fear of scaring his granddaughter who now stared at the inflictor of her grandfather’s pain with wide-eyes devoid of hope. The boy bit into the apple, allowing the juice to spill from the corner of his mouth as he began to chuckle. “I’ll be taking these,” he said, tossing the apple into the air. The girl blinked, and in that brief passage of time the boy had moved. He was now standing right in front of them, and his hand was half-way into the old man’s chest. The apple returned to the earth, now a mass of pulp. The girl screamed. The boy’s hand shot out and he pressed a finger to her lips, careening over at an odd angle to do so. “Shh,” he whispered, “He’s fine, see?” The old man whimpered in response, paralyzed either from fear or some invisible spell that he had fallen under. But there was no blood. It was as though the boy's arm had simply disappeared into his chest and was free to move about inside it. “What are you doing to him?” the girl asked, tears streaking her face. “I’m going to take out his heart,” the boy stated matter-of-factly. “Please, don’t... I’m begging you...” the old man gasped. “Oh?” The boy asked, one eye becoming wider than the other. “Do you want me to take out your liver instead?” he asked, then paused as if considering his own statement, taping his chin thoughtfully, “Ah yes, that might produce a rather stunning result.” The old man resisted the force that had taken control of his own body. He tried to reach for the kunai in his pocket, his hand straining to move against the vice gripping his muscles. “Run,” he told the girl, “Go back to the house, I’ll meet you late—" he was cut-off by his own scream as the boy pulled an unrecognizable organ from his torso. He stared at the bloodied stomach in his hand and growled, then he bent down to show it to the girl. “Trick or treat?” he asked, and then laughed. The girl wailed as she turned and ran, but stopped to turn back to wait for her grandfather. He would never come, as just then the boy ripped his heart from his chest, the veins that were pulled from the cavity arcing in an esoteric spiral as bright blood splashed across the ground in a circle around them. The body fell with a dull thump, the boy stooped down to collect the apples and place them back in the bag, and studying the heart he held in his hand, seemed to lose interest in it and tossed it over his shoulder before walking away towards Konoha, deaf to the crying of the child that echoed in the night behind him. Meeting on the Hill Mimicry approached the two men who stood on a hill overlooking Konoha without any hint of speeding up his casual pace. He carried a bag of apples with him, and was rather eagerly biting into one when he at last arrived. There was something red plastered across his face, and he stared at the cloaked man for a moment, before his gaze slid to Taruto, and then he seemed to realize something. “Ah,” he said, promptly setting the sack on the ground and pulling out a slip of crumpled paper from his pocket. “Did you need to see this?” he asked, showing it to the man in front of him. “Because I wanted to bring something to your attention: It seems you have conveniently left out the price that will be awarded to me when I complete this mission,” he said, then turning to Taruto he grinned, “You also forgot to mention that there would be others here as well. Not that I mind either way...” he shrugged easily, “But I typically work alone. Fewer causalities that way, they say.” "Who said anything needed killing?" A young woman who had been laying down at the base of the hill had responded, needless on whether or not that needed a response. "The message just said to show up, which is weird as it is just because I know neither of you two are from my village. Shouldn't the question you be asking is why in the world all three of us would be out here in the first place. That's the interesting question." Shizyua smiled pleasantly at the newcomer as he spun an apple with expert skill on one finger. "I don't think it's all that interesting," he began casually, gesturing lightly with his free-hand, "The man before us clearly has something sinister up his sleeve, but since we're all here it's obviously nothing too intimidating. " he laughed, the turned his attention towards the girl who had just arrived, "Also, I don't recall ever saying anything needed to be killed, but if you're going to volunteer as a victim then..." His eyes were pushed to narrow slits from his wide, toothy grin. "I'll gladly hold the knife." "Enough of your childish babble." An authoritative voice echoed from the hooded man. "Now since you all are finally here I suppose we can begin. You see the reason I brought you all here is for one very specific reason." The man spoke as his voice cut off. He stood there as the three ninja peered at his ominous presence, in a jerking movement his hands flung out in front of him and he uttered two words. "Dream....Demon!" Then the world around them all faded to shadows. The Dreamworld Upon waking the three ninja would find they were in a large clearing within a wood of dead trees. The ground was coated in a few feet of ash and the air smelled of smoke and soot. The spiraling whips of ash danced like departed spirits in the wind that shot through the trees, twirling to and fro in an everlasting storm. Far beyond the trees were towering mountains that shot far past the clouds that coated the sky in grey, one of the directions however seemed to be a path between the mountains however before anyone could move a voice boomed from all angles. "And that reason is, to kill you all!" It boomed resonating through the forest. "You see I grew tired of killing normally long ago, it was too boring. One slice of the abdomen and one choke with their own guts and it's over, barely a rush. However brining things into this world, this realm allows me to toy with my prey, enjoy the madness and fear. So let me formally welcome you three to the dreamworld, a realm that I run. There are a few simple rules here. First you cannot leave without my permission or death, either mine or yours, however the latter means your gone for good. Second your chakra won't replenish, nor can you create natural energy, your stuck with what you've got so don't fuck it up. Third and final, have fun with your deaths, scream a little." With those words spoken the voice faded out in an echo leaving just the howling wind as the only sound within the hellish world. "Hmm, I knew this was a bad idea. But oh well, at least I can enjoy myself with a challenge." Taruto said with excitement in his voice. He then looked at his companions and said, "I'm sorry, my name is Taruto. It seems to me that we are stuck here for the time being. And I can't get apples from dead trees unfortunately. So now then, I know we are all complete strangers, but why don't we work together, just this once." Taruto could not afford to allow his "companions' leave his sight, just in case something unexpected happened. He needed to be prepared and he planned to gain a lot of intel. Mimicry had been staring without much expression at the new world that surrounded them, but at last he turned his attention to Taruto when the latter spoke. “Oh,” he said, noting Taruto’s complaint about the apples, “Well if you don’t mind blood on them—here.” He plucked an apple from the bag he still inexplicably carried and threw it at full speed towards Taruto’s face. The apple shot through the air, and if one were to examine it more closely, they would see a kunai embedded into one side: perhaps meant to be taken as simple carelessness on Mimcry’s part, but issued instead as a clear threat. With that task out of the way, he tossed the core he had been chewing on over his shoulder and sighed. “This place is incredibly dull, isn’t it?” he voiced aloud. "Well I figure he'll try to kill us eventually, might as well figure out what he has coming for us before we get ambushed by it." Aimi said as she started wandering off. She knew true nightmares, having been abused to the extreme with the torturous training scheme of her childhood. When one's technique pool relies on flaying their own skin, it leaves plenty of room to not care about what could be waiting for them. Taruto got a kunai of his own so he can block the oncoming apple attack. When the apple and kunai fell, Taruto put away his kunai and said, "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks." Taruto wasn't a vampire, so he wasn't going to eat an apple with blood on it. Taruto did bring a water bottle and a sealed sandwich for later, so the apple was unnecessary. However, he still liked apples so that's why he complained about there being none. Shizuya seemed to have lost interest in Taruto, as he had followed after the girl once she started exploring the so-called "dream-realm." "This is already an ambush," he replied off-handedly. He stared around and gestured widely, "Although it's a fairly obvious one, wouldn't you say?" "Ambushes within Ambushes, next we know we're literally going to be fighting bushes. The dream guy might be high, who knows, his reasoning for trying to trap us already blows." Aimi said as she kept walking. The ash in the area started to kick up as a large gale blew through the area, kicking up a sandstorm of ash around the three. As they were al trained ninja they could sense that in that ash below there were creatures moving fluidly though it, swimming towards them. Upon reaching the three these creatures of ash would pounce upon the ninja. Shizuya watched the incoming mass of ash and, without batting an eye, extended his free hand. His expression had soured, and with his eyes glowing murderously he suddenly stopped the creatures from moving, freezing them in their tracks with some unseen force. Their writhing forms were suspended in the air for a mere moment before he closed his fist, twisting the dark cloud into a tight spiral. Then he dropped his arm to his side and allowed the creatures to remain there in their endlessly looping prison, and a look of satisfaction had come across his face: as if he had created a masterpiece of art. "Shall we move on?" he asked the shinobi beside him. Taruto was amused by the small battle, if it can be called that, that just transpired. He walked up to Shizuya and said, "My, you didn't let any of us have any fun. Though, that was a work of art that you just created. How amusing." One can tell through the tone of his voice that he was not only truly amused but also cautious of his comrades. He did not have a lot of information on them, so it was only natural to be cautious of him. He looked up at the dark sky of this dimension, smiled and said, "This environment is quite fascinating. Imagine our world looking like this. Oh, how things would be so much better. Anyway, let's continue." Aimi hadn't even looked back at the two behind her, instead continuing her walk away from them. One of the wolves had indeed attempted to bite her, but dissipated when it's attempt to damage her had essentially hit a brick wall. She had hardened her skin to the point where it was harder than steel, and it's fangs just slid off her with nary a scratch. This caused the wolf's jaw to slam into her arm, which had formed a cutting edge, slicing through the creature. The world seemed to laugh, sending a chuckle resonating through the land. A line of dead trees shot upwards making a pathway between them leading towards the clearing in the mountains. The ashes from all around the desolate landscape began to spiral into the air, gathering in clouds far far above them. "Seems our so-called 'stage-master' wants us to follow that path there," Shizuya pointed towards the line of trees. "So, who wants to be the first casuality?" he turned to Aimi and smiled, "Perhaps you'd like to go first?" "No, no, no, this won't do any good. You should know that ladies first in some situations, but in this situation, men go first. So, step aside and let me see what awaits us ahead." Taruto said as he slightly pushed Aimi off to the side. He looked at the path ahead and began following it. "Whatever, might as well see what he has in store for us. Gonna have to one way or the other to get out of this." Aimi said as she shrugged, following the hot-head down the path. "Let's kick out some jams." The voice echoed as smooth jazz began to play. As the three traversed the path they would find that the forest of trees was becoming incredibly dense. Then out of the blue tree branches shot at them from all sides as the earth shook to misbalance them. Mimicry did not seemed phased by the attacked. He delicately stepped from wave to wave of the tilting earth as he effortlessly dodged the branches that threatened to impale him. If one had observed his movements closely, they would have seen a faint, flickering motion a split second before the projectiles contacted him, a pattern of keen observation and reflexes that resembled the movements of an Uchiha with a Sharingan. His only expression was that of minor annoyance as he neared the line of trees where the branches had originated. He could not vouch for how the other two Shinobi would react, but he for one would not be brought down so easily. Dancing lightly from tree to tree, Shizuya placed his hand on each trunk as he flitted past, leaving a small, dark spiral indent in the bark behind him. When he reached the end of the row he clapped his hands together, perhaps with a hint of glee, and the trees erupted in fiery explosions. The one nearest to him burst into a ball of flames, which seemed to spread to the next, like a line of candles had suddenly been ignited. Mimicry smirked as he surveyed his work, and the bright light of the fire shone in his wide, yellow eyes. Taruto quickly took out his sword and smiled. "Branches, huh? Child's play." Taruto began to dodge and block the branches with his sword. With each dodge, he sliced the branch and with each block, he did the same. Every dodge was like a dancing move that was actually really different from his character. He had no idea why he was dancing while slicing these branches, possibly because he was bored. After he was done with his branches, he looked at Shizuya and said, "Amazing performance as always." The scattered remains of the surrounding trees lay in ashes and pieces around the feet of the travelers. The voice came back talking in a much more serious tone. "Well thats about all I have to say. Guess the rest of you can all burn." It spoke as the music cut out and the fire created by Shizuya began spreading, taking on a mucker darker hue. These black flames slowly crept towards the three as they walked. Soon they would come across a small girl upon the path, she was crying.